Search This Blog

Monday, March 9, 2009

We lived 7 days this week. We moved furniture, we entertained guests, we saw old friends, we played, we ate, we shopped. My camera broke and i attacked it with pliers. My two year old now sings, "Cheeseburger" from Veggie Tales and "you've got a friend in me" from Toy Story (your are so lucky that I dont have the techno-capacity to *show* you....But, I dont want to share about that...

On Saturday, My 12 year old son, my 7 month old son and a dear, life-long friend and I went to a funeral. We went to the funeral of a child. That is never good. Never supposed to be. At the funeral, I watched the father of the young boy in pain. I read his words to us, apologizing in advance if anything he says or does in his mourning is seems unsavory in a church and said that he knows well the rules in a Baptist Church. I cried for him again. The Cruz family is very gifted musically and much of their life was around music. We heard the songs that they sang to Zachary and we listened to a song written to God challenging Him to come home and prove himself. I cried because He is here and He has proven himself and there is no answer to why Zachary was so horribly taken from this world. So many questions but no answers. I cried as the casket carrying Zachary was carried out to "Imagine" by the Beatles.

I dont know how someone heals from the loss of losing a child. How someone heals from the sudden death of a loved one. I dont know how someone does any of this without a church "home," without the family there, without the assurance of salvation and knwoing the Loving, Healing, Fogiving arms of Christ. How?

I was so proud of the amazing parent that Jodie became. The amazing family that she and Frank have made for Zachary and Miles. Man, am I proud to know her. (or maybe to have known her.) I never got a chance to meet Zach. It was soo obvious what an amazing person he was. Not just "for a five year old," He lived life, he loved people and he crammed a lot into those five years. Makes me wonder what my last five years consisted of. I hope someday to meet him.

On Sunday, I went home to my church. My Presbyterian church that many of you would think stiff and formal. As we stood to sing the first hymn (yes, I said hymn) I bawled like a baby. I cried because I do have that comfort and healing and peace that the Cruz family needs to find. I cried becasue saying that to THEM sounds pius and judgemental. I cried for their loss and for the amazing church family that I have been blessed with. I cried because I CAN cry in my stiff little Presbyterian church.

I wish I had words for the Cruz family. I have nothing but tears. But I know WHO does have Comfort, Peace, Healing and my prayer is that they reach out to Him.